Little Angel
by summertime-nephilim
Summary: Erelah is just a normal girl, if you don't count the nightmares of wings, feathers, and white light. But her entire world is turned upside down when a strange man kidnaps her and injects her with something called "Grace". She doesn't know why, but all she knows is that something is different- with her and her world. Please rate and review- this is my first fanfic!
1. Stranded and Starry-Eyed

**Hi, people! So, I just got a wonderful edit of this fic by lucifer-sweet-lucifer (Check her out! She's an amazing writer and an even better friend), so I decided to repost this story as it's MUCh better than it was (in my opinion). As I said, this is my first fanfiction, so there will probably be a lot of editing. DON'T JUDGE! :-)**

**Remember, reviews keep the hellhounds away and the characters safe! And also help me write faster! **hint, hint, wink, wink**. But seriously, though. This is the first story I've ever written. And I'm not just talking fanfiction. So feedback is VERY MUCH appreciated!**

**Obviously, i don't own the boys. Which is a constant source of sorrow for me. Oh, well!**

** Enjoy!**

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_Erelah stepped closer to the edge of the outcropping. She knew this was an awful idea, an absolutely horrible idea. But she also knew it was what she had to do. She flexed her shoulder blades, gasping as sharp pain shot through her body. It subsided as quickly as it had appeared. Two wings flew outwards from her back, catching Erelah off-balance and causing her to teeter ever closer to the cliff's edge._

_ She gasped, thrashing her arms around in a mad dash to regain her balance, what's done was done. She plummeted towards the unforgiving ground, knowing that she would be flattened on impact. She briefly wondered what it would be like, contemplating this as the distance lessened between her and the dirt. Then one sentence broke through the borderline-mechanical thoughts – **I don't want to die**. _

_And just like that, her jet-black wings expanded, catching the air, yanking her back upwards. Somehow, she could sense the very currents and gentle eddies, her wings shifting with almost a mind of their own over the harsher breezes. For the first time in her life, Erelah felt free, unbound to the earth, a creature of the sky. _This is who I'm meant to be, _she thought. _

_She sighed, closing her eyes for an instant, letting the wings guide her higher and higher, higher and higher. She opened her eyes to see a cloud pushing towards her. Erelah laughed lightly as the moisture hit her pale skin. And still higher, until she was above the clouds. There she paused, taking in her surroundings. She barely knew how she had gotten there, just that it seemed natural, right. Just then, she felt a small bit lighter, and looked down to see a single black feather drifting downwards. _

_Pain shot back through her small frame as more feathers spiraled into the clouds below. She had only a moment to marvel at this unexpected beauty before agony hit her along with the realization of what this meant. Almost as soon as she thought it, Erelah began plummeting down, down, down, first slowly then faster and faster as her wings shed more and more feathers. She fell back through the now-storm clouds, screaming as ice crusted her clothes and lighting cracked above her, filling the air with electricity. To her side, her wings began to dissolve into black sand. Suddenly Erelah was horribly, humanly vulnerable. Her screams reached a higher pitch, almost hurting her ears, as the gritty ground sped up to meet her. She thought, _would it hurt_? And then her vision exploded with white._

Erelah woke with a start, wide eyes groping her surroundings. She relaxed as she saw the familiar green glow of her alarm clock and the bright stars on her walls and ceiling. _It was just a dream_, she told herself.

Gradually her heart slowed back from its frantic thumping and she lay back onto her covers, a small bit nervously. This had been her third nightmare in as many days, and she wasn't too keen on falling back to sleep in case the dream restarted. _Writing might help a bit._ She stumbled towards the switch on the other side of the room, cursing softly as she slipped on one of her dirty blouses.

Her fingers slid along the door frame until they hit the lightswitch. Her eyes involuntarily squinted, giving her a slightly disgruntled appearance as the light filled her room, revealing everything one might expect to find in a fourteen-year-old's bedroom. A messy bookshelf, along with a few haphazard piles of papers in various places. A laptop. Some posters. Erelah yawned and shuffled towards her journal where it lay on her desk beside a pencil. Nothing out of the ordinary. She didn't own anything out of the ordinary. With her journal in hand, she collapsed back onto her bed, making herself comfortable by forming a nest around her. She began to write.

_The girl stood at the edge of the cliff, knowing that this wasn't the best of ideas. She shouldn't even be here, it was dangerous. But she had to know. She flexed her shoulder blades, and then winced as a sharp pain shot through her back. Her head turned in time to observe wings sprouting from her back. So it was true. The wings twitched slightly as she tried to move them, then lifted her into the air. She had never known a feeling like this… this freedom, this feeling that finally, she was who she was supposed to be. She-_

Erelah looked down, confusion working its way through her mind. Why was she writing this? First the dreams, now this… She shook her head gently. What was wrong with her? As far as she knew, she didn't have a hidden obsession with birds. Or angels, for that matter. Erelah decided she had had enough of that journal for one night. Turning back onto the covers, she closed her eyes. She swore she could hear the sound of wings flapping.


	2. Blue Lips, Blue Veins

"Breakfast!" Erelah's mom called to her. She groaned and opened her eyes, stretching thoroughly before her fingers found her glasses and stuck them onto her tired eyes.

"Coming" she responded. 6:00 was the most ungodly hour. Oh, the things she did for education. Somehow managing to slither out of bed, she winced as her bare feet touched the cold floor. She needed to remember to get a rug next time she got a chance. Shuffling into the kitchen, Erelah shielded her eyes from the harsh glare.

"I heard you last night. Another nightmare?" Her mother held out her arms. Erelah sunk into her embrace, caught unawares.

"It was nothing. I just stubbed my toe." She wasn't sure why she lied, just that she didn't want her mother to know what was going on. It wasn't even that good of a lie. "Love you, mom." As the smell of pancakes wafted in from the dining room, Erelah peeled herself away and sat to her breakfast. She couldn't bring herself to meet her mother's eye, and when the school bus came she left as quickly as she could.

_Wings, falling wings, jet black, falling…falling…_

Erelah started awake. It had been a day since her last dream, and she had hoped that might get a temporary relief. Yet somehow - when she had the dreams, at least when she was flying, she had felt whole, like she'd regained something she had lost. With a shake of her head, she dismissed the thoughts. It was a dream. That's what happened in dreams. She lay back in her bed, content for the moment just to lie looking at the stars.

This last dream had been different. Instead of the wings, Erelah had felt what seemed to be light around her, coming from somewhere deep inside of her.

_The light was painfully cold as it touched her skin, and she shivered as it shifted around her. When she extended her fingers to the whorls of white, it warmed to her touch, growing hotter and hotter until she recoiled, shrinking back as the light came towards her, coming closer and closer until it enveloped her, burning away at her humanity itself. She finally collapsed, curling into a protective ball until the light seemed to recede. Erelah stood up, trembling, using a nearby tree as support until she regained her balance. Turning around, she saw something a few yards off catching the light- something about it drew her closer. As she neared the object, she could see it for what it was-a mirror. Not knowing why, Erelah picked up the mirror. She looked into it intently, and dropped it like she'd been burned; for her reflection displayed that same white light radiating out of her eyes, completely obscuring any hint of blue that had been there before. _

_Erelah collapsed, her knees giving into her body, feeling the familiar pain race through her back, knowing what she would find if she turned her head. _

She had woken in a cold sweat, tangled in her blankets. It took a glass of water and thirty minutes for her to calm down entirely. _It was just a dream,_ she reminded herself_, just_ _a really strange, fictional dream. Get a grip._ But it had seemed so real…

Erelah marveled at the crisp autumn air as she biked through piles of leaves. Her mom had always said that the leaves were the color of her hair, making this her season. She smiled when she thought of this. _My season. _ Her smile turned into a grin as a leaf landed in her braid. She debated for a moment whether to take it out, then decided that it had landed there for a reason. She let it stay. As she neared the park, she slowed and took it all in.

Whether or not it was her season, autumn was certainly her favorite. The vibrant colors, the tan grass and yellow-red leaves, the cobalt sky. Parking her bike by the rack, Erelah walked slowly down the path, spinning around in sheer joy. She felt _alive._ Erelah shut her eyes for a moment, for no particular reason. Sighing, she opened them again, just in time to see a man appear in front of her. She once again swore she had heard wings.

She'd barely registered it by the time the man had stalked towards her with some gesture of his hand, two fingers extended towards her. Scrambling backwards, Erelah turned to see another man approaching. She didn't know why, but these two men filled her with terror. Terror beyond what she should feel. She backed up against the wall. Looking back, she should have screamed, should have fought. But all did was stand pressed up against that stone wall, paralyzed with fear as the two men approached her with their fingers outstretched. They were almost to her forehead, she could already feel them touching her. Her eyes were wide open, glazed and full of fear as the angel's fingers reached her, not bothering to catch her as she crumpled and her head cracked against the stone.

Nobody saw as the man lifted the fallen girl, and certainly nobody saw as the two figured vanished with the sound of feathers and wings.

_ Erelah shuddered as the familiar pain registered. By now she had come to expect it as she turned to see her wings unfurl behind her. White light radiated off of her in waves, harsh and beautiful. With a small movement, Erelah lifted off the ground as she had done so many times. She flew towards the sun, marveling at its brightness and warmth.. As she flew higher and higher, the air around her grew thinner and thinner, the temperature colder and colder until it was almost unbearable. Fear churned inside her, a roiling sensation in the back of her mind whispering that this was a bad idea. She twisted her head backwards, catching a glimpse of her frost-covered wings. Struggling harder, she pushed ever higher, her wings growing heavier and heavier the higher she climbed. _

_Erelah forced herself to stare upwards, squinting her eyes as she turned her head back forwards. She tried to ignore the stiffness of her wings, preferring to think of the sky, but soon couldn't ignore the fact that her black wings were crusted in frozen crystals. She felther stomach drop as she began to tumble from the heavens. As she fell, her wings burned with cold flame. She started in pain as the first feather flew off, followed by an ever-increasing cascade of silver-black. The air did nothing to support her anymore. Erelah screamed, a shrill, high noise, as she tumbled out of the grey sky towards even greyer concrete. A flash of white…_

Erelah winced as she opened her eyes. Her head pounded, and she felt something trickling down her forehead. Trying to roll over, she looked for the familiar green clock and glowing stars. When she moved she was met with cold resistance. She gave a sharp intake of breath; there was nothing familiar about her surroundings. A harsh glow radiated from the light bulb above her, seemingly the only light in the room. She was seated in what looked like some strange design composed of markings painted on the floor. Struggling to turn her head, she found the chains only permitted the smallest of movement. "Help! Somebody, please help!" Erelah grew more and most desperate as she grappled with the constricting chains to no avail. "HELP!"

She fell back limply back into the chair and let her head drop. The screaming had made her injured head throb more, and anybody could see it wasn't getting her anywhere. Struggling for breath, she let out a half strangled noise. _You have every right to cry,_ she thought to herself, _you don't need to hold it in._ As she thought this, she found herself trembling. _ You couldn't have held it in, even if you had wanted to, _she considered as she felt a wetness slide down her cheek. Taking in a shaky breath, her eyes wandered around the room. There was only one entrance, and it appeared to be locked. Still, she might have a chance if she could just get out of these damn chains…

"You know, you won't get anywhere. These chains are etched in Enochian sigils, they're not going to break." A voice rang out behind Erelah, startling her. Whoever had spoken wasn't in Erelah's limited line of view. How long had he been watching her? She sat rigid in her chair, trying not to look.

"Enochian?" The man seemed to be walking towards her; she could hear the footsteps on the floor.

"Yes, Enochian," He sighed in a condescending tone. "And even if you were to somehow break through the chains, you couldn't walk through this circle. At least not when I'm through with you." The man had said all of this in an almost cheerful tone. _Was he enjoying this?_ Erelah shivered. Then she realized what the man had said; "At least not when I'm through with you."

"What are you going to do to me?" She yelped. "Why am I even here? I didn't do anything, I was just walking. I don't even_ know_ you. I don't know what kind of a person you think you are, but please, just let me go! I'll give you all my money, I'll give you anything. Just let me go. _Please_!" As the man paced into Erelah's view, she could see that he looked confused, almost taken aback but her words.

"I do not think you understand, Erelah. We're here to make you better. It isn't every day one gets this opportunity." Erelah bit back bile as the man caressed her cheek. _How did he know her name? _Sudden rage blew up in her mind. _How could anyone so awful exist! What did I ever do to him! _She clenched her fists, all of her muscles tense.

"How do you know about me_? What are you going to do with me_?" Erelah repeated, her voice a poisonous hiss. The man just chuckled, pulling something long and slender from his jacket.


	3. Flowers in the Mud

**Just apologizing for the relatively short chapters- I'm just ending it when it seems to be somewhat natural.**

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"Don't worry. This won't hurt a bit." He came towards her again, and she saw that what he was brandishing was a syringe, empty. Erelah thrashed frantically as he came closer and closer, desperate to get as far away as possibly from those pale, slender fingers. "You know, thrashing about will not make this easier for either of us," He whispered, placing his left hand on her forehead and exposing her neck. "I don't suppose you could just calm down? It's just a bit of blood, won't be missed." Erelah nearly screamed as the needle pierced her skin, feeling the tugging sensation as her blood was drawn, and then just as quickly the needle retreated. "Now, that wasn't too hard, was it?" the man asked her.

Erelah spat at him.

The man only wiped it away. "You should show me some respect. I could have just given you your Grace without taking your blood. It's actually much less painful this way." _What's Grace?_ Erelah thought.

"What the heck is Grace?" Erelah demanded, "And you're not giving me_ anything_." She actually growled at him. He turned away from her, the movement fluid. Erelah shuddered.

"You don't have much of a choice in the matter, little angel." Erelah heard the man mutter something under his breath, but it barely registered as the chains tightened around her, rendering her entirely immobile. She watched, her eyes wide, as her kidnapper approached her with another syringe. What looked like some white substance swirled inside it. He loomed nearer, and she thought for a moment, _this is what light looks like, _and then bit back a cry as she saw it clearly.

_The light was painfully cold as it touched her skin, and she shivered as it shifted around her. When she extended her fingers to the whorls of white, it warmed to her touch, growing hotter and hotter until she recoiled, shrinking back as the light came towards her, coming closer and closer until it engulfed her, burning away at her, at what seemed like her humanity itself._

This time, she couldn't restrain herself. She screamed as the needle entered her neck, the loudest scream she had ever screamed. As the man pressed the plunger of the syringe downwards, the light poured under Erelah's neck in a firework of radiance; Erelah's scream reached a higher pitch as the frigid Grace warmed inside her skin. Hotter, hotter, hotter until it began to burn her, starting at the needle's entrance and spreading outwards until her entire shoulder was consumed in fire under her skin.

If anybody had been watching, they would have seen a few peculiar things. Number one; the man was grinning as he withdrew the syringe. Number two; as Erelah's scream reached its highest pitch, her chair gave a small shake. Number three; just for a moment, after the light seemed to fade a small amount, the girl's eyes flashed white.

Erelah had given up any hope of escaping. She had been tied to the chair for what seemed like days; if anybody was looking for her, it seemed as though she was well hidden enough to remain unfound. And lord knows she had been trying to break through the chains, though why she even tried that route was unknown to her. Whatever the man had done with them, they weren't moving. She had figured out rather quickly that the man wasn't trying to kill her, but rather _change_ her. She had yet to decipher what that was supposed to mean, but she knew that whatever that light was, that _Grace_, it wasn't good. She felt empty, somehow, like whatever it was had burnt away something important. And however loudly she had screamed that first time, it was nothing compared to the next time, or the next. It was the most excruciating feeling she had ever experienced, and grew more and more painful each time the man came back.

Eventually she had simply tried to detach herself from the pain. It never worked, the light exploding against her eyelids and in her veins and in her heart. It hurt so much she started to see things, moving shadows and wings. Always wings, on the man and in the corners of her vision. She wondered if, when she got out, she would ever recover her sanity. She thought about this as her eyes began to droop, closing slowly as her breathing slowed.

_The light wrapped around Erelah's hand. This time it didn't burn, only tickled. She laughed lightly, bringing her hand towards her heart and watching as the light dissolved into her chest. Skipping along the side of the path, something caught Erelah's eye as she turned her head. It glinted, half buried in the sand, and she had to dig it out. She brought it to eye level, gazing into the uncovered mirror. As she watched, her eyes began to burn brighter and brighter until she had to turn away. But even as the mirror fell, Erelah glanced at her arms and legs and saw that they, too, were starting to burn with the same white light, brighter and brighter. She screamed as it crept to her chest, up her neck, until her entire body was burning under the skin. She knew it was only a matter of time before the light broke out…_

She woke with a start as the door clicked open and the man entered. Tired, she only gave him a sideways glance.

"Just get it over with," she said. "Please." Her eyes shut again as she tilted her head back, giving the man a clean shot.

She could hear the rustling of his coat as he withdrew the empty syringe, and breathed in sharply as the familiar needle pierced her skin, then left just as quickly. She braced herself for the second needle, but nothing could prepare her for the fire that spread quickly through her skin, far worse than any pain she had ever experienced, far worse than any previous injection.

And it grew worse and worse, unlike the times before where it had subsided after a short time. Her entire body seemed to ignite, starting as usual at the puncture point but swiftly burning through her veins. Erelah was held as if by some invisible force, she couldn't move, she couldn't scream or whisper. She sat as if paralyzed, eyes gaping open with pain. _Please… please let it be over. I can't do this. PLEASE._

The man watched as the Grace traced Erelah's veins, spread from her neck and down both arms, down both legs, as it began creeping up her chin and up her features. It swirled around her open eyes, seemingly gathering there until it began forcing its way into them.

The man had heard tales of this, but he certainly didn't expect the girl's pain, the unvoiced scream she couldn't force out of her mouth, as the light burnt away her eyes and replaced them with radiance. And he knew that the Grace was all over her, in every vein, in every artery, burning them away. Soon, he knew, it would make its way to her soul itself. Yes, it would make it shine much brighter – if she was to become an angel it was necessary. But to have your very humanity burnt away- the man couldn't even imagine it. _I'm just glad it isn't me,_ he thought grimly as the screaming started.

Erelah clenched her fists as the last of the pain seemed to subside, the last of the burning dissolve. She opened her eyes again. She couldn't remember shutting them; it must have been when the pain was still at its worse. Turning her head, she caught sight of the man leaning against the wall watching her. "Please, make it stop," she whispered. To her surprise, the man straightened up and began pacing towards her.

"Erelah, that was the last one," he spoke softly, "It's over." He reached his two fingers towards her, as he had done only days ago in the park. The man met only feeble resistance before his hand touched her forehead and she slumped over, unconscious


	4. Fading to a Starry Darkness

Sam and Dean had been on a break, or as close to a break as they ever got. They took up residence in a nearby motel, ignoring the peeling wallpaper and broken mattresses. Greasy, red-checkered wrappers and the occasional empty beer bottle or half-eaten salad littered the table, and Dean sprawled on the tattered blue couch, flipping through the static-filled channels as Sam was propped up on a pillow wincing as the alcohol stung one of his many gashes. They had just finished up a pretty standard salt-and-burn, normal for them, and figured they were overdue for a little brotherly bonding time. You know, get some_ rest_ and all.

_What a joke_, Dean thought grimly. Naturally, Castiel just _had _to show up as soon as they had gotten comfortable. Not like they needed rest or anything. Of course not. Anyway, Cas had appeared in a flurry of wings, making Dean nearly fall off the couch in surprise, spouting something about angelic omens in Arkansas. _Damn it, Cas. We're in Seattle!_ Dean thought, exasperated. Not everybody had a pair of fancy angel wings to zap them places.

But then Cas had said something about a girl, and naturally that got Dean's attention. Turns out there had been a disappearance in the area, nobody had any leads. And then there was the mother, who claimed the girl had been having nightmares the week before she disappeared, and had said something about wings. Now, it could have just been some ordinary coincidence, but Castiel had insisted that it wasn't. Plus, Dean had a hunch. So here they were, driving south on the word of an emotionally challenged angel and a hunch_. After all, who needs a break?_ Dean though bitterly.

"Any word from Cas?" Sam asked hesitantly. His brother had been a bit… on edge. At least since their break had been interrupted.

"Nope. I guess he had more important things to do in heaven. You know, like watching as we do all his work for him. Anyway, here's the deal," Dean said as he flipped through his notes. Sam had forced him to do the research this time, preferring to watch as his brother struggled as opposed to the alternative. "This girl, Erelah, disappeared while riding her bike last week. There was no sign of a struggle, and the police have no leads. Her bike was found at the mouth of the trail. A warehouse nearby has been lighting up with angelic omens since she left, And not just your normal, run-of-the-mill angel. It's something big, and it's not going away." Sam started.

"So, do you think Castiel was right? That we should check this out?" Dean sighed, stretching his legs beneath the small table.

"I guess it's worth a look. We'll check it out tomorrow." _Of course Cas was right. Is he ever wrong?_ Dean thought bitterly as he crawled into his bed.

Sam and Dean pulled to the side of the road. Dean had insisted they keep the Impala far away from the action, because "If there's some big-wig there, I want my baby to be safe and out of harm's way." Of course. So now they had to trek and extra mile to the warehouse, and all for the sake of Dean's "baby". "You know, sometimes I wonder about you and that car. It's just not natural, Dean!" Sam joked, quickly sidestepping to avoid Dean's wicked left hook.

Turning back to Sam, his face settle into a more serious visage, "We should probably get going. The sun'll be up soon, and I don't want us to lose the element of surprise. If it's really some super-powered angel, we'll need all the advantages we can get." The two men continued quietly down the side path.

Voices quieting even further as they approached the worn-down shack, Sam and Dean crept to the side to observe the warehouse. It seemed to have only one entrance, a peeling old door in the front. There seemed to be no signs of life, the field still and quiet. _Go_, Dean signaled to Sam. They couldn't risk any talking, even whispering.

The door creaked as Sam pushed it, and he winced. If there was somebody in there, they would be alerted to his presence as soon as he opened the door fully. Taking a deep breath, Sam stepped into the warehouse. The first thing he saw was the flickering light above, a bulb in its death throes. The second thing he saw was the chair, barely supporting what was seated in it. And the third thing he saw; this made him gasp; was a girl, barely fourteen. Her red hair was dull, and a leaf was resting haphazardly in her braid. Her face was so pale he could see her freckles from where he stood, and her hands gripped the chair's arms so tightly he would be surprised if she didn't have splinters.

"Dean, you had better come and see this," Sam called over his shoulder to his brother. "There's somebody here – I think she needs our help." Sam watched the girl intently as Dean made his way into the room.

"What's up with her?" He asked, checking the room for any potential threats. He was trained as a hunter, and he wasn't going to let anything catch him off guard because of some stupid girl laid out as bait.

Sam gave him a dirty look. "I don't know, but these chains are etched in Enochian sigils. I don't know what the circle is, but I'm willing to guess it's some kind of angel trap." The two men exchanged glances, reading each other's gaze. _Call Cas?_

"Let's hope the nerdy dude with wings isn't too busy to answer our call. In the meantime, let's see if we can get her out." Sam knelt at the chair's feet, busying himself with dismembering the rusty chain. "I don't know, Dean, I've never seen a chain like this. Maybe we should wait for Castiel. What with the Enochian and omens, this is more his." Dean nodded his agreement, and they leaned against the wooden wall lingering until their angel came.

"That's right, Dean. The markings are Enochian. They prevent the chain from breaking or moving. They did not want this girl to go." Castiel had appeared a few seconds ago, and, speaking in his trademark monotone, had confirmed what they expected. The girl was, in fact Erelah, and they weren't getting her out without angelic aid.

"Well, can you help us?" Dean demanded. Even though he had just met the girl (or, depending on how you looked at it, had seen her), he found himself strangely protective of her. Maybe it was because she was achingly young. _What if they had been torturing her_? Dean knelt down and gave Erelah once over, relieved when he saw no marks. Suddenly aware that Castiel was speaking to him, Dean stood back up. "Sorry, what?"

Castiel tilted his head slightly. "I said, it will take an immense amount of effort, but I should be able to break the seal." Cas knelt at the circle's edge, hands outstretched. Sam and Dean took a step backwards and Castiel began to mutter something. His eyes glowed as his Grace reached for the Enochian sigils, and Sam could see the chains begin to burn red-hot. The girl shifted in her seat, crying out softly, and the two brothers flinched until Cas rose, straightening his dirty trench coat.

"I'm finished. The chain can now be removed." Sam again set about loosening the chain with a dagger as Dean looked on.

"Cas, don't leave just yet. We might need you later, you're the biggest lead we've got right now," Sam spoke softly, but turned to see the angel already gone. Sam sighed and continued loosening the lock. Finally, Sam and Dean heard a click and the chain sprang away. Lunging forward, Sam barely caught Erelah as she tumbled forwards. "Dean, I'm gonna need your help. I think she's got a fever, and it'll be the best for her if we take her back to the motel." Sam shushed Dean as he began to protest. "I don't care if she's dangerous. She's just a girl, and she needs our help. We can test her later, if that's what you want."

About thirty minutes later, they were driving back to the motel with the still-unconscious Erelah in their backseat.


	5. Dancing on the Tip of the Sky

_Erelah lay on the ground, head aching. The man had struck her hard, and when she withdrew her hand, it was colored with crimson. Wincing, she tried to stand, but stumbled before she could raise herself up. She closed her eyes, knowing that help wouldn't come. Her mind began to drift, not noticing the light that had begun to gather around her. Feeling the chill around her, Erelah opened her eyes again._

_ The light began to grow warmer, and she gasped as it clustered around the wound in her head. She felt a tingle as the light danced over the cut, then raised her hand again to it. As her mind cleared, she began to notice the steadily warming light swirling around her. It began to grow hotter and hotter, and she tried to scramble away in horror as it started to force its way into her mouth, her eyes, her heart. _

_Batting pointlessly at the growing luminescence, Erelah watched as it began pouring into her, lighting up her skin and veins, burning her as it traveled through her arteries and muscles. It grew hotter and hotter under her skin until it seemed as though it was burning away what made her Erelah, what made her human. Erelah felt an added pain shooting up her back, and as she turned around she saw a pair of magnificent black wings sprouting out of her shoulders. She flexed them, and gulped as her feet left the ground…_

Erelah woke again with a start, nearly cracking her head against the Impala's low ceiling. She paused a moment, taking in her surroundings; tan interior of an old car, backseat, and two men driving.

"Where am I? Who are you? Where are you taking me?" Erelah murmured. The man driving started, swerving a little on the road. Erelah's hand reached up to her head wound, feeling nothing. _It must be on the other side,_ she reasoned, but a probing confirmed that the cut had disappeared. I_t's like in my dream._ Her thoughts were cut short as she heard the man talking quietly to his brother. She was certain she wasn't supposed to hear.

"You know, Sam, I'm not so sure about this girl. She shows up, in chains, in the middle of an abandoned warehouse. Which Cas said had been practically on fire with angelic omens. Plus the chains have Enochian on them. If that doesn't count as something fishy, I dunno what does. Something just doesn't seem right to me."

The non-driver gave Erelah a long glance, then spoke more loudly to her, "Hey. It's Erelah, right? I'm San, and this is my brother Dean. We're the ones who got you out of that hellhole. We're on our way to the motel, get you cleaned up and all that. Then you're gonna have to answer a few questions, okay?"

Erelah nodded meekly as the Dean turned his eyes back to the road, watching through the glass as the rain slid down the windshield. She lay in silence on the backseat, content for the moment to simply rest. Besides, what could she say?

The rain had subsided to a slight drizzle by the time the Impala pulled back into the motel parking lot, and Erelah decided it felt good on her skin as she stepped out of the car. She stumbled slightly, the brothers barely catching her before she outright fell. Once Erelah's footing was secure, the trio started making their way to the slightly- decrepit motel. As she watched, they were handed two keys, and the desk manager pointed down one of two tattered hallways.

"Your room is down there. Will you be needing an extra bed?" Sam nodded his head. The girl would have to have somewhere to sleep, at least until they found somewhere to put her. He glanced quickly at Erelah; she seemed to be doing all right. At least she was conscious now, a large step from when they had found her.

"C'mon, Erelah, our room is this way." Guiding her with his hand, Sam took note of how hot the girl's back still was. "Dean, she's burning up. We'll need to get her something."

Abruptly, Erelah mumbled something, and Sam had to strain to make it out. "What?" he probed, leaning in closer. She slumped, her legs suddenly working too hard just to keep her up.

"I-I'm not feeling…" Erelah struggled to keep the white from covering her vision. "I-feel…" Her tongue moved sluggishly in her mouth, trying to form words as the light began to burn under her skin in in the corners of her vision. "I…" As Erelah's vision faded and her legs gave way, she grasped frantically for Dean and Sam. The two brothers rushed to her side, failing to notice her arms, which were traced with a latticework of white.

Rushing ahead, Dean nudged open the room's door for Sam and Erelah. The larger man was already struggling to support the limp girl's dead weight, and the door would be an unnecessary nuisance. As Sam staggered in with Erelah, Dean pointed to the first bed. After unceremoniously dumping her on the covers, Sam stepped back to observe her.

"I don't see any wounds. What's wrong with her?" Dean squinted at Erelah's arms.

"Sammy, you might want to have a look at this." The light had traveled from her wrist up to nearly her elbow, and was glowing faintly. _Is this new? _Dean couldn't remember anything of this sort when he was giving Erelah an once-over in the warehouse, only the blood on her head. He tenderly traced one of the veins, keeping a careful eye on her for any sign of pain. She just lay where Sam had placed her, and Dean realized that, in all the rush, he had forgotten to check her pulse. He laid his fingers to her neck, and winced as the heat seemed to radiate off her. Glad to have an excuse to remove his finger, he called to Sam. "Her pulse is irregular. She's gotten even hotter since before. And look at this." The light seemed to be burning even brighter, if that was possible.

"Any ideas?" Sam inquired, wondering again if they should call Cas. Obviously, they were both way out of their league. Sam knew that, if he didn't know what was going on, his brother certainly wouldn't either.

Dean sighed, not wanting it to come to this. "I think we should wait on the angel. I'm sure we can do our own research. I've never seen anything like this." The boys were interrupted by a faint moan as Erelah attempted to sit up. Both brothers gasped at the sight of her. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she was shaking and pale. Seeing how weak she was, Sam propped her head up with his arm.

"What-what happened?" She inquired faintly, struggling to sit up farther, her head splitting. "And what's that noise?"

Sam and Dean exchanged a concerned glance, wondering what to tell the girl. "What noise?" Dean finally ended up asking. Erelah still watched him expectantly, obviously not having heard a word Dean had said.

"Dean! What's that noise? Make it stop! It hurts, please, make it stops, it hurts so much. please…"The noise rang louder and louder, drowning out any other sounds and making her head blaze with pain. Her arms grew brighter and brighter, and she screamed as it began to burn her. _Please, not again. I thought I was done. I thought it was over. He said it was over. _

The man watched with satisfaction as the girl below began to writhe, her arms traced with the Grace. It would take a few days for the transformation to be complete, for any impurities to be burnt away. But she was in good hands right now. As far as he could tell, he had been correct about her soul. It was strong enough to support the change without burning, but wouldn't reject the Grace. It was imperative that she was strong. He had found her because of her dreams. Certain people had dreams such as those, and that's how you could know. Not that she would be dreaming much after the change. Or sleeping, for that matter.


	6. Life is a Hope Eternal

Sam and Dean watched Erelah as she struggled against some invisible force. On occasion, she would murmur; sometimes about wings, sometimes about the white light that traced her veins, sometimes in a foreign language. The brothers weren't sure which scared them more.

Periodically, Dean would put a hand to her forehead to see if her fever was down. It seemed to be getting worse and worse, the skin uncomfortably hot to touch. So Sam held ice to her head, and Dean just watched as the white light slowly trickled up both shoulders, up her face, down her legs. He somehow knew that, if he were to look, it would be clustered around her heart.

"Sammy?"

Sam glanced at his brother.

"I think we should call Cas." The younger brother suppressed a sigh of relief. _It's about time he came 'round._

"That'd be good. He might be able to help." Sam turned his attention back to Erelah, who was now lying still in the bed, her muscles rigid and eyes wide open. Her braid was now soaked through and dull.

The leaf had fallen out sometime between the warehouse and the bed, and Sam found himself missing it a little. He could hear his brother praying in the next room over, and he started as he heard Castiel's voice. _He actually showed up?_

"Hey, Cas. Thanks for coming." Sam gestured vaguely at Erelah. "She's been like this since this morning. We can't figure out what's wrong with her." Cas squinted his eyes.

"And she's burning up with fever," Dean added helpfully, "She's been saying strange stuff, too, about wings and light. Sometimes she's not even speaking in English."

Sitting at the side of the bed, Castiel rested two fingers on the girl's forehead. "I don't know what is wrong with her. I have never seen anything comparable to her current state." Dean sighed.

"Well, is there anything you can do?" He demanded, "It might just be me, but I don't think she's looking too hot." Cas turned his gaze onto Dean, blue eyes intent.

"I could… check her soul. It would be excruciating, though. I am not sure if it would be too overwhelming, though." Dean glanced at Sam, wincing. This brought back memories they had both tried to forget.

_Sam's muscles clenched and his teeth bit down on the leather belt, hard. Castiel's hand reached into his chest, glowing with white and illuminating Sam's face. Sam jerked spasmodically backwards as Cas retracted his Grace. "Did you find anything?" Dean asked, worried. "No." 'So that's good news?" I'm afraid not. Physically, he's perfectly healthy." Dean was confused. "Then what?" Castiel turned to him. "It's his soul. It's missing"_

Sam's voice brought Dean out of his reverie. "Do it." Dean spun around to face his younger brother.

"_What!?_ He demanded, "It could kill her, Sammy! Do you really want her to end up dead?" Sam looked at him.

"If there's a chance, even a small one, that she may end up alive, we have to help her. I mean, look at her. She won't last a lifetime, much less a day. What do you want to do?" Dean sputtered for a few seconds, and then turned away.

"Fine, then. Do it. I just don't want to see it. And if she dies, it's on you." Flinging his arms in the air, Dean stomped towards the doorway. He shot a final glare towards Cas and exited.

Castiel rolled up the arm of his dirty trench coat methodically. Wincing as Cas rested his hand on Erelah's chest, Sam turned away in an attempt to block the screams. It didn't work; the shrill noise pierced his skull nonetheless.

Erelah's back arched off the bed, her face illuminated even further that it had been before, and the sound of pain grew higher and higher. Sam's eyes widened as the light above him shattered, and he fell against the wall, sheltering his ears from the painful sound. Castiel's Grace retracted from the girl, and the screams finally died down. Shaking his head, Sam felt the ringing in his ears subside.

"Well?" Sam demanded. Castiel was still standing beside the girl, and he noticed the glowing had dulled.

"She had a human soul. However, there was something…unusual about it. She had what seemed like Grace tangled in it."

"You mean she's a freakin' angel!?" Dean burst into the room, having heard the commotion. "Cas, c'mon. When have you ever seen an angel get sick?" He looked at the pale girl. She was barely breathing. No, definitely not an angel. "That's what Grace is, right? Angel stuff?" Sam rolled his eyes, exasperated at his brother.

"We don't know what she is."

Erelah felt… strange. Light, somehow. The pain was beginning to recede again, and she could finally breathe without her chest bursting into fireworks of agony. She groaned slightly, cracking open her eyes to the run-down motel room where she was laying.

"Sam? Dean?" Her voice echoed off the walls. She raised her head slightly, blinking back an upsurge of dizziness. As her eyes focused, she noticed the broken shards of glass surrounding her. "Guys… what happened?" Sitting up, she detected a faint odor, like burning. "Guys?"

Sam watched Erelah from where he sat. Dean had warned him not to get too close, at least not until they knew what she was, and Sam figured it was best to take him at his word. But the girl looked fine. Better than fine, actually. Albeit a bit disoriented, Erelah looked as if she was feeling wonderful. "Erelah?" He called out. The girl sat up straighter, then turned to face him. Sam stumbled backwards, stunned.

"Sam? Where are you?" But Sam had already backed out of the door frame, sprinting to his brother. Because Erelah's sapphire eyes, the eyes that were so big and so bright and so full of wonder, were gone. And in their place were the blazing eyes of an angel.

Dean looked at Sam incredulously. "So… her eyes were white. Like, angel white."

The younger brother nodded. "And I could barely look at them- it was like staring at the sun. But Erelah didn't seem to notice anything. She just looked confused." Dean cracked open the girl's door. She was facing the other way, and didn't notice as he stepped inside the frame.

"Erelah?" The teenager spun around. Her eyes were their natural, blue color, and her arms were shaking slightly.

"Yeah?" Dean stepped a bit closer to the girl, watching for any hint of danger. None came.

"Do you mind if we check something out?" He sat on the side of the motel bed, and gestured for Erelah to give him his arm. When she didn't pull away, he reached into his jacket pocket, noticing Erelah's flinch as he withdrew a flask. Before she could react, he fluidly unscrewed the lid and flung its contents towards the girl. Water dashed her clothes, leaving her braid leaking water and her blue eyes blinking.

"What was that?" Erelah asked, confused.

"Oh, that?" Dean replied, "It's nothing you need to worry about. Now, this might sting a bit, but I won't hurt you. I promise." Erelah tried to jerk back her hand as Dean grabbed a knife from his belt, but to no avail.

"Let me go!" She cried out shrilly. "Please, let me go!" As she watched, Dean drew the wicked-looking blade across her arm, bringing forth a bubbling of crimson.

She hissed as the sting reached her mind, but it was bearable. Much better than the "Grace," whatever that was. In fact, it barely hurt at all as Dean wrapped it up snugly in a clean bandage. "It's okay. It hardly hurts anymore" She reassured him as he started to apologize. He raised his eyebrows.

"In that case, do you mind if we check just one more thing?" Erelah paused, then shook her head. Dean strode over to the other room, returning with a puzzled looking man in a tan trench coat. Erelah noticed his eyes- blue, like hers. "Cas, can I see your angel blade?" The blue-eyed man –_Cas, _she thought to herself - handed Dean a shimmering knife. It had strange symbols written on the side and they looked familiar for some reason… but Erelah shook off the thought. How could she recognize something she had never seen before?

She was brought back from her thoughts by a sharp sting in her other, non-injured arm, as the blade cut into her flesh. She gasped at the pain, looking down at where Dean was cutting her. She could have sworn she saw a light coming from the wound, but she blinked and it was gone, and Dean was wrapping another bandage around her forearm. "Okay, that's it," Dean stated, turning to leave with the other man, Cas.

But as Castiel turned, Erelah gasped.

"Wait!" She scrambled out of her bed, wobbling slightly as she steadied herself on the motel's hardwood floor. "Cas?" The girl's eyes widened as she reached a hand to Castiel's back, seemingly to open air. "What's on your back?"


	7. My Thoughts Are Stars

Erelah gaped at the man's shoulders. She knew she had seen something, out of the corner of her eye. And she was right. Starting at his shoulder blades and arching through the empty air were two… wings. The feathers, almost translucent, ranged in color from a dark brown to jet black. As she watched, they stiffened. _He's surprised, _she speculated.

"Erelah?" Cas intoned, turning around to face her again. "How can you see my wings?" The girl's eyes were wide, and so, so blue. If he looked closely, he could see a whisper of … something inside, something ancient and pure…

"What are you?" Dean demanded. Erelah turned her blue eyes onto his green ones. He looked angry, betrayed.

She let her gaze linger for a split second before responding, "I don't know what you mean." But Dean knew she wasn't human. What human had Grace in her soul, what human could see angel wings? _But maybe she doesn't know-_

Dean grabbed Castiel by the shoulder. Half-dragging the angel, the Dean exited the room, leaving Erelah to her thoughts. She could just barely hear tatters of a heated conversation thought the walls, and tried to block it from her head as she lay back onto the stained bedcovers. The teenager bit her mouth, hard – she could taste every single molecule of the blood, but couldn't feel any pain.

As she brought her fingers to her lips, something caught her attention. Bringing her arm back down, she could feel the cut Dean had given her. With trembling fingers, Erelah peeled back the white bandage and gasped.

_But that's impossible, _she thought. The gash had faded to a slight white line, the only sign it had ever existed being a spot of crimson on the gauze. Her fingers traced along the scar, and she felt a tingling sensation in her back, followed by a sharp twinge of pain. Her shoulder blade twitched, and a sharp intake of breath followed as another twinge shot down her spine. Clutching herself, Erelah rolled over onto her side as the discomfort grew. It felt strange, like something was-

Her thoughts were interrupted as another spasm ripped through her, catching her unawares, followed by a prickling sensation just below her shoulders. Another wave crashed into her, followed by another, and another. She tried to see behind her, but there was nothing she could see. "Dean!" Erelah barely managed to choke out before the sensation grew to be too much.

Dean Winchester was perplexed. To be more specific, he was perplexed about this girl. What kind of a teenager shows up in an abandoned warehouse, then collapses and starts to glow? And what kind of a teenager doesn't ask for her mother? What kind of a teenager barely reacts to knives? _Maybe it's PTSD? Or maybe…_

But he didn't want to think about the other possibility. She was just a girl, for Christ's sake – even if she seemed inhuman sometimes. _But the glowing, she was talking about wings in the dream. And the way she reacted to the angel blade… and what was all that about Cas's back? _She couldn't have seen his wings. Only angels could see wings. And she wasn't an-

"Dean!" came a strangled cry from inside the room, interrupting him. The older Winchester barged into the room, expecting to find something, anything, other than what lay before his eyes.

Demons, he could handle. Angels, he could handle. But this- he had never seen anything like it.

The girl was obviously in pain. Her face was ashy, her muscles drawn, and fingertips stretched desperately over her shoulder blades. But they weren't enough to keep the two streaks of radiance from leaking outwards.

"Sammy, Cas- you had better get in here." He cried, stumbling backwards. If anything, the two lines stretching down her spine had grown wider, brighter, and he squinted. What was with this girl and glowing? "Hurry!" Dean needed some help, preferably angelic, and was relieved as Castiel rushed in.

"Where's Sammy?" He demanded as Castiel began to reach for the girl, his blue eyes wide. "Cas!" The angel only trailed his fingers along Erelah's back, seemingly wonderstruck.

"Dean." The angel murmured quietly, his eyes not leaving the girl's back. "What do you know about… angelification?" Dean's brow furrowed.

"What? Is that even a word?" he rasped. Surely Cas couldn't mean what he thought he meant. That would be … catastrophic. Impossible. No, this girl was_ not_ becoming an angel. He wasn't going to let anybody else have their lives ruined. No way. "I don't know what you mean, Cas."

"I mean, when a human becomes an angel." _Well, shit. _Dean stared at Castiel, willing him to laugh and say "just kidding" But it never happened.

He ran his hand through his hair. "I don't know a damn thing about it. I didn't even know it was possible."

"Well, it appears that is what is happening. Her soul is being infused with Grace. She is making the transition from mortal to angel even as we speak."

"So what are we supposed to do?"

"I can try to search heaven's resources. You must keep the girl under close watch."

Dean glared at Cas, then glanced at Erelah. "C'mon, Cas, we don't have time for this" But when he turned back around, the angel was gone. "Sonofa- typical." He whipped around as Sam stumbled blearily into the room. "Heya, Sammy."

"Was Cas here?" The older brother gave his head a quick bob. If Sam knew his brother at all, he was pretty darn frustrated. "Look, Dean, I know you still haven't forgiven him, but he's just trying to help. Just give him a chance."

"Cas said that she's turning into a friggin' angel, and then disappears. You've got to be _kidding _me! What are we supposed to do now? She's still not waking up, and how do we know that she's not possessed? Or like every other emotionless, _betraying angel_ we've ever met? How are we supposed to trust Castiel? After everything he's done? You said to give him a chance? Haven't we already given him more than enough chances?! I'm done with this whole…game. I'm just done."

Dean slammed the door behind him, and Sam knew better than to follow him. Dean's temper was a volatile thing; he would probably sneak out to a bar somewhere and catch a girl. _And then come back and pretend nothing happened_, Sam thought wistfully. But with a brother as emotionally constipated as Dean, what else could he do?

He settled into the worn chair beside the table. He wouldn't let Dean's outburst keep him from doing research. _So Cas said she _was turning into_ an angel? _His fingers flew across the keyboard. First things first- what did they want with her? A click was heard as Samselected the first result. _Girl Gone Missing, Family Bewildered_, and the next, and the next. Then he saw something. _Missing Girl's Family Killed in Fire, _the headline read.

"Erelah Pennington was presumed dead just two days ago. Now, family struck with tragedy again as fire kills the remaining relatives. Police are unsure as to the cause of the fire, but are…"

Sam stopped there, his eyes following the line of text. _Police are unsure…all the family killed…_ _police unsure._ Of course the police were unsure. If Sam knew anything about demons, than he knew this; police were never sure. And that this was almost certainly demonic work.

_But if Erelah's family was burnt, the newspapers would be crawling with the article_, he thought. And he hadn't found it until he was well onto the second page of results. Demons were messy, careless. They wouldn't clean up after themselves. So…_angels?_ It would certainly make sense- whatever was really happening to Erelah was almost definitely angelic. But why go after her family?

Maybe they did this to her for a reason. Maybe they needed her to be untethered. _Like Jessica._

He yawned- it was well past five-o'clock, and it seemed as though they would need as much energy as they could get. Erelah would be fine until this morning, wouldn't she? Sam yawned again as his eyes began to droop. Let Dean take care of the whole Cas thing- he was going to sleep.

_The girl lay on the bed below, and the man watched over her. _Soon, _he thought. Soon she will no longer be a fragile human, but instead something much stronger. Much greater. The girl had received a precious gift- soon she would pay him back in full. Even better, she was close to the Winchesters. _

_Yes, soon she would repay him for his gift._

* * *

**Hello, lovely readers! I'm sorry for the slow updates- as I said this is the first story I've EVER written, so writer's block is a real problem for me! (ugh) That also means that reviews are VERY WELCOME, (in fact, they're the highlight of my day) so puh-leeze take the 10 seconds out of your day to write a little something!**

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**Once again, thank you so much! I hope you enjoy the next chapters (which will probably take a while. Remember; contrary to popular belief, hellhounds do NOT make a person write any faster.)**


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